


Organic Chemistry

by lngrid



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 08:03:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20188984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lngrid/pseuds/lngrid
Summary: Siebren tries to recover physically and mentally while working for Talon but a visit from Dr. O'Deorain stirs him up more than he thought it would.





	Organic Chemistry

**Author's Note:**

> I tried for wholesome fluff and it ended up being smut. I regret nothing.

It is a slow wake-up. 

He eases back into consciousness by a stubborn streak of light that is gradually heating up his chin -- batting and eyelash he tries to sleep back again, with not much success. Thoughts come flowing in. Nice, calm thoughts. Thoughts of this semi-holiday of his. What a lovely change, he thinks, and slowly openes his eyes.

He turns onto his back, yawns and stretches his whole body and just feels to _ be there _ for a moment. It is-- _ amazing _. A warm grin washes over his face, and he groans delightedly, nuzzling his nape back into the soft pillow.

He is alive. He is here. All is well.

‘What a wonderful day for field research’ he mutters amused to himself, and sits up slowly onto the side of the bed. He pushes aside his last night’s read - The Tao of Pooh - and takes a notepad in his lap.

_ Day 83. 12th August. _

_ Calm, collected. Had a good dream, slept through the whole night. Wine and a book before bed help with insomnia, as they did before the incident. The book on Tao good as expected. _

He pauses for a moment, glancing down, then shrugs with a smile and notes:

_Experienced an erection this morning as well. Libido slowly returning._ _The amygdala seems to be diverting from solely serving as anxiety center to normal function._

Gotta be thorough, he thinks happily, and, setting the notepad aside, gets up just to stretch again, joints cracking. He walks to the window and withdraws the curtain, looking down at the astonishing view of the mountainside.

Almost three months it’s been since they unceremoniously dumped him in this strange observatory, a Talon base completely off the map. All he knew was that they were in Italy - and that too, only from the food labels - but where exactly, was anyone’s guess. The mountains did not look steep and rocky enough to be the Alps, so he guessed it must have been the Apennines. Anyway, no town in sight, and anyway, he was not allowed to leave at all.

‘It is for your own security, doctor’ Akande told him in a calm but authoritative tone ‘You have done well in our missions so far, but it is in our interest to let you continue your research and test your abilities. The council agreed the best course of action was to dedicate a research base for you where you can commence without any distractions. You will want for nothing.’

And so it was. There were around half a dozen Talon soldiers living in the huge compound with him - they rarely met and, no matter how hard he tried in English or in broken and butchered Italian, he couldn’t strike up a conversation with them at all. Twice a week he handed them his groceries list and without any commentary, they procured exactly what he asked for. It was quite a nice touch, he had to admit, so he took care to cook for them at least once a week as thanks. At first they admittedly did not touch the food, eyeing him and it with suspicion, but over the weeks an unspoken trust formed between them along the lines of this simple exchange, and with a curt nod - no words of thanks whatsoever - they took the steaming hot platters he offered them.

Oh yes, cooking. It’s been ages since he cooked, having been taught by his mother, and then just continuing out of sheer passion and interest. Of course the last time he could find the time was… well, he couldn’t quite pin it down. It was in the _ other life _ , before all of this, even way before getting really buried in his research. But now he had all the time in the world to actually take a fresh basil leaf and smell it, eyes closed, savor it in his nostrils. To take hours making the perfect dish, that smelled and tasted _ just right. _

And then he would sit at the huge desk he had come to call as ‘his office’, eat and look through his research, or scribble on the numerous whiteboards, kicking off his shoes and feeling twenty years younger again, when he had no care in the world except for his research. At night he would plant himself at the immense telescope of the compound and glance up at the Universe. The music would chime up really loud somewhere in the back of his head, but somehow it did not bother him this time around. It was just him, after all, eccentric, broken but still content him.

Lazy days went by like this. He slowly unraveled his research, taking his time, half-expecting to be called back for an odd mission by his new employers, so he made sure to utilize the gym that was also a part of his quarters for at least two hours a week. He started feeling better every day. It was like a long-deserved vacation.

That morning was no different. No -- actually it was. It was the day of the Perseid meteor shower, something he looked forward to every year. 

He then decides to take a positivist approach and celebrate the small things. He quickly glosses though his grocery list then adds a Vintage 2014 Chianti to it - same age as him. Why not, he chuckles to himself, then puts on a pair of training shorts and floats down the stairs to the ground floor, but has the decency to actually let his feet touch the ground by the end of it. The soldiers were visibly unnerved by his abilities, so why cause a fuss, especially on such a nice August day?

‘You should take the evening off. I promise I won’t go anywhere’ he says with a friendly smile to one of the men.

‘We can’t, the Doctor is coming’ the guard suddenly replies with a thick Slavic accent.

‘Doctor?’ Siebren raises an eyebrow.

‘The crazy witch’ another man adds, and then gets elbowed by a third.

‘Ah, Dr. O’Deorain.’ Siebren says, his expression turning sour. The first Talon soldier reads his face and grins.

‘Exactly.’

‘When?’ Siebren asks, and feels himself tense. Generally Talon meant trouble, but Moira meant drugging and endless teasing and prodding and he is not in the mood for either of those things.

‘She’s outside’ the soldier nods towards the door. Siebren involuntarily lets out a displeased grunt and feels his feet slowly floating away from the floor due to stress. The soldier looks at the list again and his grin grows even wider ‘Should I get double of everything, Dr. De Kuiper? Maybe a romantic night will melt the ice queen.’

‘Out of all the situations we could’ve started a conversation in the last three months, you chose this one’ Siebren grumbles, and before he could really prepare himself, the door flies open.

‘I hate this place’ are the first words Moira utteres with an expression of annoyance plastered on her face; it feels as if she was sweeping in a distinct negativity with her. 

The soldiers form an orderly line and salute her. Siebren does not fight the urge to float anymore and he feels his feet leaving the ground. He tries hard to swallow the sudden bad taste in his mouth.

‘It’s insanely hot everywhere’ she continues. Siebren sees small beads of sweat on her forehead and - he can’t believe his eyes - her wearing a white tank top instead of the usual shirt and tie. There is one glistening droplet of sweat rolling down the pale neck, stopping for a second on the sharp collar bone, and then disappearing as it rolls down her decolletage.

** _You should fuck her until she begs you to stop!!_ **

A voice too much like is own rings somewhere behind his one ear and he has to shake his head not to lose focus. 

‘Well, how are you, my favourite Project?’ Moira steps up to him and before he could muster an answer she grabs his jaw, making him slightly purse his lips and pulls him towards her, inspecting him with malicious glee. Siebren gives her an annoyed look, determined to show he is not afraid of this stupid _ tovenares _, no matter how much she wants to intimidate him.

‘You look well’ Moira purrs, running another hand through his stubbly hair and also letting her fingers gently feel his stubble ‘Hair growth quite active for a man of your age.’

Several voices shriek somewhere in the distance:

** _Rub her inner thigh raw with your stubble_ ** **!**

‘Wha-’ Siebren tries to say, but Moira releases him and steps back, sharp eyes darting through his body.

‘You’ve gained weight’ she assesses bemusedly, and he regrets not putting on a shirt.

‘Does that bother you in any way, Doctor?’ Siebren tries his best to retort calmly, but she just shakes her head with that unfading smirk.

‘Not at all, I am glad to see you so… _ healthy _.’

The way she says _ healthy _ makes him gulp. She is so implying and intimidating all the time, as if the whole world was her oyster and she was just about ready to drink it all up.

‘Come now’ she says, passing him and walking up the stairs to his living quarters ‘I have to leave tomorrow so we don’t have much time for your status.’ He follows her, relieved at the thought that at least she won’t be staying that long.

‘How… quaint of a man cave’ Moira chuckles, seeing his disorganized table with papers, tablets and some mugs strewn across it ‘Have you been enjoying your little vacation?’ she turns around and almost pierces him with her gaze.

‘So - hello to you too, Dr. O’Deorain’ Siebren finally sighs and reaches for his coat flung across his office chair, hastily putting it on ‘I understand your visit is short, but can you maybe tell me its purpose? We can focus on the matter you came here for more completely, then.’

She looks at him, specifically his chest that is still bare under his coat and runs a hand through her short, vibrant red hair while raising her chin a little.

‘I…’ Moira starts slowly and then just ever so slightly bites her lip. The voices shriek to **make her kneel right there and force her to take him with those sassy lips** . _ Great _ , he thinks, _ all the progress I’ve made, reversed thanks to this woman. _ He doesn’t linger on the thought and tries his best to squish the noises out.

‘I am your medic. I came to check on you, it’s that simple. But right now I need a shower to clear my head. We can talk during’ she finally says, turning around and heading off. Her direction is awfully confident, as if she had been there before. Siebren regretfully follows, fishing out a towel from a built-in wardrobe. When he catches up with her, she is already taking off her top. The slightest sigh escapes his lips, then he loudly cleares his throat. Moira, now wearing a flesh-colored simple bra, cocks an eyebrow, and steps closer to him. Siebren forces himself not to look at her and feels an uncomfortable flush spread across his face.

‘Siebren, don’t tell me you are embarrassed to see me naked’ she coos while she takes the towel from him. He huffs a bit and then retreats a few steps, turning his back towards her.

‘Let’s keep it professional, Doctor’ he says, maybe a bit too bluntly because he has to raise his voice to speak through the whispers and laughter in his own head. She gets in the shower and they talk about his research, his abilities, his current mental state. Moira stops being coy and returns to her strict, sometimes military command style. Being cold and objective also helps Siebren focus, and only then does he notice that he has been clenching his jaw and stressing his whole body so far.

Moira turns off the faucet and says she will need five vials of his blood. Seeing his chance, Siebren excuses himself abruptly to get what she is asking for and hastily floats out of the bathroom. Moira calls after him to say she will be in the conference room, and he thanks the Universe that their conversation is over for now.

For the next four hours he pretends to work but cannot. The voices, sometimes bubbling up in him, make it impossible. He remembers something that always helped in the past to sort out his own feelings when frustrated about a part of a research or an experiment: probing the problem. This time - himself. So, matter how disturbing the thought was, he had to ask himself - _ Did O’Deorain.. excite him sexually? _

About a thousand voices at once sing an immense, glorified - 

** _YES._ **

He drops the pen he was holding and falls back in his seat with a look of despair, mouth slightly hanging open. He gulps.

Where did this feeling come from? Does it stem from all those years of confinement? It _ has _to, right? Maybe it’s just a surge of hormones, the amygdala being revitalized as it is…

He pondered on this for longer than he is comfortable admitting. The long day slowly turns to twilight and he remembers his plans for the night, so he starts preparing dinner in the enormous kitchen, but the thought just keeps bugging him. 

Maybe he should’ve taken better care of himself, his _ own needs _to avoid projecting it on the first woman he encountered, he thinks miserably while shredding parmesan on top of a lavishly layered lasagne.

When the steaming hot plate is done, there is still no sign of her. He takes a generous piece on top of a stylish plate and knocks on the conference room door. It takes a few minutes before Moira emerges, seemingly completely out of it.

‘I made dinner’ he says, keeping his voice casual ‘I thought you were busy so I brought you some.’ her eyes dart between his eyes and the plate, at one point coming to a rest between the two, eyeing the tight fitting black t-shirt he has on.

** _She wants it too_ ** \- a single voice whispers and he has to loudly clear his throat to shoo it away. Moira blinks a couple of times and takes the plate.

‘Look at you being a middle aged housewife’s wet dream’ she then says with a hint of sarcasm ‘Much obliged, I was… a bit preoccupied with some other matters. Not all experiments are as rewarding as… you, _ Sigma. _’ she adds with a sly smile and closes the door.

_ Oh well. This is actually one of the better scenarios _, he keeps telling himself.

He goes back to the huge table, and eats, as always, alone. The Chianti is as great as expected, easing him into a continuous smile, a blessed state of mind where even the nasty voices in his head seem to be entertaining. As he packs away the remains of the dinner and puts on a hoodie to prepare for his stargazing, he chuckles to himself about all the crazy things they have been whispering to him. Manipulating gravity and bending her to his will, or letting her do to him what she pleases - _ my, I haven’t been this virile in a long time, _ he thinks to himself amusedly.

Outside on the deck of the observatory the mountain air is crisp and chilly, and he sets up one of the many camping chairs he had procured, contently collapsing in it and bending his head back to let his eyes start to adjust to the faint glow of the stars, all while his thoughts wander.

Well, he is actually in quite a good shape, much better than his peers. He did notice the accident had halted his aging, even revitalized muscle and hair growth, and… well yes the virility, actually. He faintly recalled one mission where in the heat of the battle he felt so strong and in control like never before in his life. He was quite sure he saw the Mexican girl stare at her with equal parts disbelief and adoration.

A shooting star pierces the night sky, a slice of silver on the black canvas of the Universe.

_ I wish more days were like this _ , Siebren thinks. _ Calm, happy, in control days. _

Of course this was a stupid, childish wish, but at this ripe age wasn’t he allowed to be childish a bit more?

‘Made a wish yet?’ Siebren turns to see Moira stepping out into the deck with the remaining Chianti in her hand - and with a smile that eerily pierces the darkness ‘ I found this just _ lying about _’ she says, holding up the bottle and she swayes ever so lightly.

Siebren props up his head and squints.

‘If you want to come sit here with me Dr. O’Deorain, I have _ conditions _.’ he states, almost cockily. He sees Moira stop in her tracks, slight confusion clouding her face.

**_You have power over her_** \- a voice whispers and he snickers. _Yes_, he can clearly feel it now. Probably it’s just the wine, but it is still working.

‘Conditions?’ she huffs offended, her sharp look returning.

‘Simple ones’ he offers in his academic tone ‘If you want to come and look at the stars with me, you will not talk of work or about my progress. We shall be concentrating on the Universe.’

Moira is still for a moment, then she takes a swing from the 62-year-old vintage wine and asks ‘Do I at least get a chair, Dr. De Kuiper?’

‘Please Madame, take mine’ he says, standing up and offering it to her. He takes another from a small pile and unfolds it to her left. ‘You are a bit down’ he remarks and she shrugs, tilting her head back.

‘It’s work. And we don’t talk about work is what you said, you cruel, cruel man’ she huffs, acting annoyed. She still only wears a tank top and sleek black pants, sprawling across the foldable chair with a certain elegance.

They start talking. About science, how they got into it. Ideas, breakthroughs, letdowns. It’s a surprisingly easy conversation.

‘There’s one’ Moira points ‘So, these are coming from the Perseus constellation?’

Siebren perks up at her slightest interest.

‘Yes, it’s called the _ radiant. _ This meteor shower originally has a parent body, the Swift-Tuttle comet. The comet comes around every 133 years, but the meteor shower, every year’ he said, gesturing up and spreading his fingers, sweeping across the sky with one hand ‘Fascinating, isn’t it? And of course, the constellation Perseus’ he continues, leaning over towards her and pointing to it ‘He slayed the _ wicked medusa _’ he says implyingly, with an evil smirk ‘That could turn people into stone with a gaze - much like you.’

She looks over him with an _ excuse me _ expression, but he can tell it’s in good fun. There is something in her eyes, in her smile.

He opens his mouth, then closes it again, swallowing hard. The nasty voices flare up again, like little devils dancing on his shoulders.

** _Ravish her. Make her scream your name in sweet anguish. NOW._ **

‘There are other, less known regular meteor showers’ he says abruptly, trying to get the words out as fast as possible and gesturing at the sky ‘Like, the Ursids.. Lyrids… and some… others…’ he whispers the last word as he realizes Moira iss till looking at him, this time with a warm, approving smile.

‘I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Siebren.’

‘Uhm.’ that’s all he can say, staring back at her. The voices are awfully quiet now. Bastards.

Moira breaks out in a light chuckle, then stands up and, with a sudden motion sits on top of him.

‘I was wondering… sometimes’ she whispers seductively, gently pushing her hip against his ‘You could show me how the treatment influenced your… _ stamina _ . Because if there is something wrong, I am sure I could help make... _ adjustments. _’

‘What?’ he feels dizzy with wine and sudden lust. Half of what she’s saying doesn’t even make sense to him. _ Adjustments _?

Moira unexpectedly pulls up his shirt and she blushes in a way he has never seen her. 

‘Oh my, my, _ my… _ That looks quite _ brilliant’ _ she bites her lip, her tone of voice matching that of the lustful voice in the back of his head. She bends down to kiss his abdomen and her touch is like a jolt of sweet pain. He growls, feeling an instant erection. She is the one in control - again. He ponders for a minute if it’s wrong that he likes that while letting out a sigh full of pent up desire.

She tears herself away from his abs and looks seductively at him, inching closer to his face.

That is the moment when the camping chair decides to give out and they both fall to the ground. Siebren manages to keep himself floating just inches above the ground and tightly hugging her, which apparently only fuels her desire.

Moira puts both hands on his chest and porps up her upper body. She looks insanely attractive, and Siebren feels drowned in the view of her with the stars in the background.

‘I like that adoration in your eyes’ she gently whispers and bends down, kissing him. Her lips are soft but she is very demanding, even using some teeth while pressing down her hips on his. He hugs her lithe frame, pulling down her chest to his and grabbing her ass with the other arm. She moans into the kiss and reaches up his T-shirt, clawing at his chest.

‘I’m gonna go crazy if I can’t fuck you’ he blurts out, his speech slurring, the moment he can draw a breath. She snickers and bends down to nibble on his neck.

‘You are already crazy’ she corrects him and gently bites his ear. He arches back, drawing in a sharp breath and squeezing her bottom hard, so it hurts.

‘No’ he heaves, growls ‘I’m gonna go _ crazy.’ _He pushes his hand under her pants so he can feel her soft skin and her panties with his fingers, his palm. He sits up but still holds her close and bites down hard on the shoulder to prove his point - and she moans, shaking with excitement.

‘Such stamina…’ Moira tries at a sassy comment but her desire chokes her up. Siebren’s hands are all over her now, under her clothes, feeling her skin, her curves. He lets out a small whimper when he feels the hardness of her nipples with his thumb. She feels so hot, so responsive to his touch, bending towards him as if he was the center of all gravity.

Something snaps in him, something wild and rough and amazing, and with a quick motion he turns around and shoves her against the cold concrete, kissing her and forcefully holding down her wicked arms. She hugs his hips with her long, sensual legs and he knows it would only take a _ thought _ to get rid of all the clothes and take her here.She blinks at him questioningly with no encouragement but also not telling him to stop. 

‘Let’s go inside’ he whispers, putting his forehead carefully against hers.

‘As you wish’ she gently mouths back and hugs his neck, letting him float upright while hugging her close. They kiss almost violently and Siebren miscalculates the placement of the glass door, hitting his shoulder against the glass while floating, cursing in Dutch.

‘Hmm, that sounds tempting’ she says, grabbing his chin and turning it towards herself ‘Say some more.’

‘Ah… Alsjeblieft, ik ben zo geil dat ik niet eens kan nadenken (Ah, please, I am so horny I can’t even think).’ he groans, and is glad for the language barrier because even at this she gets even more turned on. He whispers to her more, his _beeldschoon_ _tovenares_ (beautiful sorceress) and _Wacht tot we bij het bed zijn _(Wait till we get to the bed)._  
_He feels a bit uncomfortable doing this ‘dirty talk’ in his native language but he knows he is on the right track when he hears her light, subdued moans.

They finally reach the bed and he gently puts her down, looking her up and down with hungry adoration. She tells him to strip and he obeys, then he almost tears off her own clothes. She is wet and welcoming to the touch, uttering the slightest and sweetest of moans he has ever heard. He spoils her with his fingers, his mouth, taking his time, savoring every atom she has to offer. When she contracts in sweet climax, she lets out a small scream and he feels more accomplished than ever in his life.  
Among the pillows, panting and flushed, she looks absolutely mesmerizing. He caresses her face and she leans into his touch.

‘I must reflect upon my assumptions about you’ she breathes with a lazy smile as he towers above him.

‘We’re not done yet’ he growls with a smile, and raising her hips pushes inside her. Feeling her like this in itself is like fireworks, but the surprised look on her face and the way her eyes roll up with delight just drives him _ mad. _

It’s pretty much impossible to exercise any sort of control, and anyways, he realizes he doesn’t even want to stop. Everything is so sharp - no distracting music or noises, just _ her _ enveloping him, the view of her moaning and begging for more underneath him, clawing at his back and chest. He goes faster and stronger and harder, wanting to give her everything he has, everything he is.

He topples into her neckline and lets the climax roll through his body again and again.

‘Mijn tovenares’ he growls tiredly between two deep breaths, and notices something is amiss - probably just the blood rush.

‘Siebren’ her voice is gentle but firm, and he feels that she is clinging to him. Hmm, what a tender woman she is... ‘Siebren, don’t panic, please’ she says in a calm tone.

‘I am far from…’ he lazily says, lifting his head from her sweet embrace, and notices that they are floating close to the ceiling, and so is everything else that is not nailed down in the room ‘Oh.’

‘Put everything down, slowly’ she whispers gently, running a thumb across his lips. ‘I have something I want to try.’

Thanks to that _ something _ that comes in the form of a simple little syringe, they do it four more times, once on the ceiling all the way. After the first time she is way more in control, instructing him how to please her, and he gladly obliges, sometimes throwing in a trick or two of his own, just to throw her off balance and watch her eyes grow wide with pleasure.

The next day he wakes up late and alone, tired and sore in every muscle, trying to process all that has happened last night. She is gone already, with only a curt note left behind:  
_ Further such experiments need to be conducted. _

Harnessing a black hole pales in comparison to harnessing this crazy sorceress. He needs to prepare himself and be very thorough in solving this one. Siebren catches himself grinning uncontrollably and lazily falls back into bed - he can’t wait to start working on this new, exciting ‘problem’.


End file.
